ouch

So my babe and I are at yoga last Saturday morning, and I'm admittedly feeling pretty damn good about my progress...not so fast.

We are leaving and our yoga pal (who shall remain nameless) says the following:

"Wow Leslie you are really losing weight, you look great!" Looks at me and says "And you're TRYIN'!"

Ouch...

A. Leslie is already trim and fit.

B. Compliment all or shut the F up!

compelled to compare

This is the thing I do...compare my life to everyone else's life in an attempt to fully justify my low self-esteem. so, yep...I've done it again. I've compared my life and accomplishments to someone else and now feel like a loser.

In my mind I know this is false. I know that I have fashioned quite a nice and rewarding life for myself...complete with fabulous canines, a few unmentionable felines, some chicks and the master chick that has made my life soooo great. So, why do I feel like it should be more? Will more money mean more success on a personal level? I'm living my life in a way that is truly satisfying...here is where I allow this to be OK...

Just something I've been pondering. I'm pondering this because I can sense that just about the time I'm on my death bed will be about the time I finally accept myself and my life for who and what it is.

Does everyone feel this way to some degree? I wonder....

Nothing worse

I have often had to survive total humiliation. However, this most recent scene in the mortification play in which I often star, surpasses most on the richter scale. I'll get specific: my girlfriend's mom came for a visit, a long one. This is just dandy, except her stay was through Sunday eve...the L Word finale. My babe asked her mom how she felt about watching the L Word, she said "absolutely not". Understood. Well, my GF was a bit miffed by this extreme HELL NO reaction to a little girl/girl love plot, so she took hold of the ol' remote and decided to do a quick switch over to see what the ladies were up to...as usual, they were up to no good. Up to their elbows in Shane's boobs and Molly's nether region! Oh lord....way more than GF anticipated...and low and behold, the remote suspiciously would not respond to repeated attempts to change the channel! L's mom was horrified...in fact, I think viewing the innocent slaughter of baby kittens would have been easier for her to stomach. Needless to say, I slunk off to bed, eight shades of red-wanting to disclaim as I passed by "we don't really do that, ya know".

What is truly amazing is that when we watched the entire show the next day, we found that scene to be the only racy scene in the entire hour...what timing, what luck! Wow...what are the odds?

When you just can't go on

I've had a real battle on my hands...a battle to complete the book I raved about before reading--which is always a big mistake. An equally large mistake is buying the fucker in duplicate twice over and giving it to friends and family as a little gifty. Sorry to all whom I gave this whiny piece of anti-literary babble. I'm speaking of the boring and tedious Eat, Pray, Love. A better and more accurate title would have been Bitch, Piss, Moan and Eat. God. I had to quit.

An actual excellent and worthwhile read is Left To Tell. Real Good.

No words

I am compelled to write about the sad and increasingly scary Paula Abdul. I am wondering why there has been no formal intervention for this poor soul who continuously shows up to work clearly high and/or ripped. This sad sack cannot even manage a simple declarative sentence, and yet the room hushes in anticipation of her strange and convoluted responses! I mean, I wanted to bury my head and skulk out of my own living room just to avoid being my own witness to this disastrous gal. Then I asked myself the question..."why". Why is she employed? Who made that executive decision? Is it because of her extreme talent and the huge success of that one song she sang once? Is this evidence of her capacity to find the next "big" thing? I think not. I feel for these poor little Idols who just want to hear..."good job" or "you suck" rather than PA's dribbling diatribe bordering insanity.

Paula, please go home and get help.

Perhaps I could cease watching this train-wreck and read one of the 15 books I have stacked up waiting for me. I don't know why I'm so resistant to doing things I actually enjoy instead of opting for the cringe-factor, which stresses me out...not sure about this one. I think I'll google it and see if I can diagnose.

Be back with an answer soon....

A Gemini thing

I've been beating myself up lately...irritated that I have no attention span, cannot actually finish a task, a book, a project or a thought. I was starting to research my "pathology" using my favorite and most steadfast source-Google.

Surprisingly, Google could not identify my problem...oh wait, I mean I did not accept the explanation--I think it was Schizophrenia with Multiple Personality tendencies. So I moved on to interviewing my successful friends and family to see what their diagnosis would be. alas...it is a Gemini thing. I've always known this to some degree, but never wanted to accept that this is a part of my personality, my make-up that I just may NOT be able to fix...therapize out of or medicate to make better.

So now I'm left with accepting and embracing my total lack of organization, lack of organized thought and total submergence in chaos! This is me. My desk will always be a terrifying place for those who live ordered or happen to be a Virgo.

Typical me

This is what I do. I decide I'm going to do something, and then without forethought or logic, I sign up.

I've done this again. I have decided I want to sea kayak...in the Sea of Cortez for nine days straight. Now, one might presume I was indeed a "kayaker" perhaps have taken a lesson or 10, or maybe even sat in a kayak. This is not the case. I just like to assume that because I want to do these things, and have full use of my limbs, these "things" are within my scope. So I signed up. Then I read the small print which said.."16 miles a day..." this did not deter me...then I read "must pass Dunk Test or Wet Exit". This did its job...I am deterred. I immediately googled these terms and was horrified. Apparently, one needs to know what to do in the event one of these streamline little suckers flips over leaving you strapped in and under water. None of this occured to me. I have witnessed countless kayakers swooshing aimlessly and effortlessly through the still waters of wherever....but never have I seen the bottom of the kayak with some poor soul stuck under it!

I am now in a bit of a panic. This dunk thing sounds a little too "athletic" for my current state of physical prowess...it may end in disaster...so I have to cancel. I think I will have be realistic and maybe sign up for a lesson before spending $2k on a kayaking vacation. But I hate to do this. After all it is on my vision board.